


Predator

by DaisyFairy



Series: Two Word Prompts [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/pseuds/DaisyFairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock when on the lookout for a suspect is very much like a predator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Predator

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little thing I wrote. I used a random word generator to give me a prompt and it gave me Proud Urban, so this popped into my head and a couple of hours later here we are.  
> Written on my phone and not checked over as much as I normally would, so hopefully not too many mistakes :-)

John watches Sherlock standing on the edge of the flat roof looking down. He looks like a proud urban lion, a predator. The dying embers of the sun sending shafts of light between the surrounding skyscrapers causing him to narrow his eyes as he surveys the street below looking for his prey. The street is his savannah, his hunting grounds, the crowds below are herds of zebra, with Sherlock searching for the weak individual, the one he seeks to sink his claws into, to draw blood and spill secrets from.  
The golden light is glinting on his dark mane showing hints of warmer reddish hues in amongst the inky ebony of his locks, and flashing hints of feline yellow in his eyes.  
His lithe form is coiled, ready to spring as soon as his prey comes into sight. His strong muscles are hidden beneath his long coat, but John can see from his slight tremble that they are tense and eager. He will hurtle down the ladder to begin the chase, and never give up until he has his quarry cornered and helpless.  
The curl of his lip looks as if he is ready to snarl, to issue a warning to the world that he is there, that they should beware lest they become the target of his gaze.  
John's phone beeps, he reads the message and tells Sherlock "They caught him, ran across a road and got hit by a car."  
John expected the predator to retreat, back into hiding under the thin human facade of his friend, but Sherlock swivels to face him, his pupils wide in the dying light and panting from adrenaline denied too long. He stalks closer, taking slow strides until he is barely an arms length away. He bares his teeth in a predatory smile and licks his lips. Hungry eyes devour John's body, drifting up and down slowly to take in every inch of him, before lingering on John's mouth and finally settling in an intense unwavering stare directly into his eyes. It is as if Sherlock can see straight inside, peeling away layers to see right into his core, until there is no hiding place. John feels his adrenaline rising under the scrutiny, his breath becoming ragged and his muscles tensing. Perhaps the hunt is just beginning.


End file.
